


Samtasha Prompt Fills

by RivRe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivRe/pseuds/RivRe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short, unrelated Samtasha ficlets based on prompts left for me on my Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samtasha Prompt Fills

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on tumblr! Leave me prompts and confessions of your undying love for me! jamessebastianbarnes.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sam makes jello, but Nat has different ideas about how to use it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (as quoted above) from Crystal (fermatas-theorem)  
> This fic was cross-posted to my tumblr, [here](http://jamessebastianbarnes.tumblr.com/post/92112580597/).

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” Natasha drawled. “It’ll be fun.”

“There is absolutely no way I’m giving the arguably best sharpshooter on the planet and professional assassin jello shots.”

Natasha poked him in the ribs. “It’s going to be hysterical. I promise.”

“Do you see this jello, Natalia Romanova? This jello is famous Wilson Family Jello, made with a super-secret recipe. It’s been passed down through the generations for, like, forty years or something, ever since my mom found it in a cookbook while looking up how to make pecan pie.”

Natasha frowned. “How do you start with pecans and end with jello?”

“My mother is a remarkable woman."

Natasha stuck her finger into the pot, darting forward to swipe a bit. Sam had been very stern about not letting her taste it, and she’d pretended to obey. At least until his guard was down. She thought it was, at least, but Sam managed to catch her wrist inches from her mouth, stepping between her and the pot. “If I wanted to, I could just knock you down and take the whole pot,” Natasha informed him.

“As I’m very well aware. But if you do that, I’m not going to make you jello again.”

She gave him a dirty look, but she still dropped the bite she’d stolen back into the pot. “Sooooo… jello shots?”

“I’m not giving your ex alcohol.”

“Oh.” A coy smile spread across Natasha’s face, and Sam wasn’t sure he was too pleased with it. “You’re just worried that if he gets tipsy he’s going to lose his finals scraps of civility and challenge you to some bird-brained testosterone duel.”

“I’m not just worried, I’m terrified. Like I said, best sharpshooter on the planet. He’d put six arrows in me before I took my first steps. Pararescue vs assassin? You can do the math, because I really don’t want to.”

Natasha gave him a pat on the head, then reached up, planting a lingering kiss on his mouth and wrapping her arms around his waist. “You know,” she said, her eyes boring into his. Her voice got low and husky, and Sam wanted to roll his eyes at her attempts and seduction, except they were kind of working. “If you’re really so opposed to doing shots with Clint, I can think of some other things we could do with the jello.”

“Wilson Family Jello, Nat,” he reminded her. “That’s probably sacrilegious. Besides, don’t get so eager. You haven’t even tasted it yet. And you won’t,” he twisted his hands behind his back, reaching again for the narrow wrists inching back into the pot, “until dinner.”

Natasha grumbled something at him in Russian, stepping back. Before Sam could react, the doorbell rang.


End file.
